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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039913">The light in our lives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cityhumans, CountryHumans, Geography (Anthropomorphic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic fluff because I can, Gayness? Gayness., I love these gay towns, M/M, TW: minor implied gender dysphoria, fluff? Fluff.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:21:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,393</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Moscow and D.C. are in a loving and secure relationship when one day, they want a child. And so a long chain of events tail behind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Moscow/Washington D.C. (CountryHumans)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could have someone else in our lives to share our love with?</em>
</p><p>DC's own words to Moscow circled around his head as he tried to fall asleep like a rotating fan with no off-switch. He had never given much thought or consideration into that scenario in the past -- rather, it had crossed his mind once or twice before, after the peak of their relationship, and until then, gradually built up in the past few months leading up to the present, until he had blurted it out to Moscow that very afternoon. </p><p>
  <em>Moscow. Let's have a child. Let's be parents.</em>
</p><p><em>But how? </em>The American capital kept wondering aloud about his own words -- it was beyond their league to have a biological child of their own, despite it being possible. That way though -- that whole <em>process</em> would be long and unnerving and beyond daunting for him. No. That way would take far too big a toll on himself.</p><p>So then. A biological child, related by blood, of theirs, would never come into their lives.</p><p>DC knew that wasn't completely true. What about surrogacy, where someone else could carry it for them and it would share their blood, either his or DC's or possibly both of them, and it would be <em>theirs</em>, with Moscow's viridian-green eyes and the beautiful striking crimson shade of red that was on DC's flag, and they would love them unconditionally and every day? </p><p>No. </p><p>A wave of guilt instantly surged through him as he thought about how selfish that was, and about the many children out there who needed loving families. Adoption was always an option, and he wouldn't care less that the child would not biologically his own. Bloodlines meant nothing to him. All DC yearned and wished for was for a third someone in their lives that they could love for the rest of it.</p><p>The more he pressed on that thought, the more rigid and less distant it became. Even as he closed his eyes and resumed the process of attempting to go to sleep, the thought pressed back, just as hard, and refused to leave him alone.</p><p>Next to him on the bed was Moscow, his husband. DC could tell that he was asleep judging by his steady breathing. As he watched him, another flash of memory from that afternoon hit him.</p><p>Moscow's reaction had shown that he was rather surprised at first. But DC knew that Moscow had been pondering it for a while, too. </p><p>He pictured Moscow, him and their child, as a family of three, doing activities pretty much all happy families did -- taking their child shopping for candy and then warning them against taking too much, playing with them in the park on a sunny day where they could socialise with other children, sending them off to school, and then consoling them after having a huge breakdown and acting as the vehicle to guide them through their angst and sadness and fear. And of course, eventually letting them spread their own wings when they matured.</p><p>That responsibility.</p><p>That <em>huge </em>responsibility.</p><p>Was DC ready to take it?</p><p>DC knew that Moscow would certainly be ready to take it, with how he was already like a father-figure to everyone and his tactical mind which was great at planning everything out. Any child would be lucky to have him as a father.</p><p>It wasn't really self-doubt that restrained DC, but the persistent thought of <em>Are you really ready yet </em>that everyone on the threshold of parenthood had. </p><p>If they really were to adopt soon...DC would make sure that he would give the child the best life they possibly could have. He was certain of that.</p><p>He would have a proper conversation with Moscow about it in the morning and then consider their options. </p><p>At long last, weariness seeped through him like a drug, and he felt his eyes closing. For the seconds before he was finally asleep, brief flashes of thoughts of the two of them being parents, how exactly they would do it and what America and Russia would think about the whole thing went once more through his mind, and then sleep took him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Moscow woke up, his husband's side of the bed was cold.</p><p>Obviously, Washington had been out of bed for a few hours. As his vision focused, he spotted him with his laptop open on the desk in the middle of their room, scrolling slowly through some webpage. He yawned and heard Washington mumble a quick "Good morning." </p><p>That was unusual. Washington's "good mornings" were usually cheerful and sometimes had a teasing tinge to its tone, especially on mornings where Moscow happened to wake up later than him. But on that day, his good morning had sounded so...rushed and nervous.</p><p>Moscow checked the time. Eight o'clock in the morning. He glanced again at Washington over at the desk and noticed that there were dark circles under his eyes and his posture was slumped, which was a very rare sight. He knew him well enough to know that posture, to Washington, was the most important thing in existence. So again, his suspicions were raised.</p><p>
  <em>OH. </em>
</p><p>It struck him as if someone had hit him over the head with a full bottle of vodka.</p><p>How could he have forgotten? </p><p>He remembered yesterday's afternoon, where Washington had told him that he wanted a child. His words had sent a spark of excitement rushing through him. He had wanted a child as well, someone to love and care for.</p><p>"Hey, man! What you said yesterday. Was it for real?" Moscow asked. </p><p>The American gave no reply, just continued scrolling on the laptop. So there was something clearly wrong.</p><p>Moscow got up from the bed and made breakfast. He knew it wouldn't be right just to go straight up to him and pry what he was concerned about out of him. He needed to give him some time.</p><p>Moscow handed Washington his plate. He heard him say a very quick "Thank you" just before he left the room. He ate his own breakfast alone in the living room and when he was finished, put the plate in the dishwasher and returned to his and Washington's room. He was still on his laptop, as expected. Moscow knelt down beside him and prodded his back.</p><p>"Hey, don-" Washington started, and then let out a long sigh. </p><p>"What's wrong? I can tell something's up with you." Moscow told him. "Let me guess...were you looking up tips on how to be a good parent or the like?"</p><p>"Yes." Washington admitted instantly, much to Moscow's surprise. "I'm sorry. You probably think I'm obsessed, but really, I just wish we could be a family."</p><p>"Oh, me too! It would be awesome. We'd make the best dads!" Moscow grinned and put an arm around him. </p><p>To his astonishment, Washington began to laugh. "You mean, I be the "dad" and you be the "comedy-relief chief."</p><p>Moscow shook his head. "Pfft. Being married to an American. Honestly the worst thing <em>ever</em>."</p><p>Washington closed the laptop, pushed it to a corner and kissed his cheek. They collapsed back onto the bed.</p><p>"I was joking, by the way. Being married to an American was the best decision I made in my life."</p><p>"Moscow, I'm not dense. I <em>know." </em>was Washington's reply, feigning annoyance.</p><p>Then a brief silence pursued, and the American capital was the one to break it.</p><p>"I was thinking that we could adopt a kid." Washington stated bluntly. </p><p>Moscow took this in.</p><p>"Magic man! That's a wonderful idea! I don't know why you were acting so edgy about it earlier though." </p><p>Washington smiled. "Magic man? I swear, you come up with a new nickname for me every day."</p><p>"Don't question it. It's just how I work. So...are we going to call up an adoption agency or something?"</p><p>"That's also part of what I was looking up. But I think we should wait. We have to make sure we're completely ready."</p><p><em>Funny man, </em>Moscow thought, <em>doing things by halves.</em></p><p>Moscow had always wondered what he would be like as a parent. He'd be the type that always looked out for his kid and would stand up and protect them no matter the cost. Before yesterday, he wouldn't have thought it was soon to become reality.</p>
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